


moon rising

by mysticravenclaw



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Main Video Game Series), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: Diamond & Pearl & Platinum | Pokemon Diamond Pearl Platinum Versions
Genre: Action/Adventure, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Author Is Sleep Deprived, Childhood Memories, Friendship, Gen, Legendary Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon - Freeform, Pokemon Battle, Pokemon Death, Pokemon Journey, Warnings May Change, You Have Been Warned
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-28
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-07 03:13:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17952578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticravenclaw/pseuds/mysticravenclaw
Summary: it's always been like this - in the wrong place at the wrong time, saying the wrong things in front of the wrong people.that's just how chaos begins. but then again, what's a champion without  chaos?-a cynthia origin storyupdates every 2 weeks





	1. the dragon's revenge

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Fish71022](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fish71022/gifts).



Even in the midst of summer, the wind that whistled through the valley that was Celestic Town was harsh, swooping past like a stinging slap to the face. The setting sun burned overhead, a ball of bright, overflowing red; bloody streaks spilled out of it and snaked through the darkening sky.  Soon enough, black would ooze out of nowhere and settle upon the town’s residents like a smothering blanket.

 

On a typical day, it was a silent and reflective place, the only sounds made as tranquil and faint as ripples on a pond. When night fell, it would fall slowly and solemnly, breathing faintly on each house in turn as lamps were extinguished and eyes closed. Its work done, it tiptoed silently away, leaving the town painted in inky black until the first rays of sunlight kissed it gently on the cheek.

 

It was seven years ago when night fell on Celestic Town with the quiet grace of a piano falling down a staircase. That was the night when everything changed.

 

Near the edge of town was a field that stuck out like a sore thumb. Unlike the carefully tamed wilderness of the town park, or the kingly grandeur of the forest that bordered it, this field was what could only be described as an overgrown mess. It was a sea of grass tall enough to drown a child in, grass that was brittle yet flexible, deathly pale yet full of life in the caress of the wind. Not to mention the occasional wild pokemon that would jump out to attack, or one of the diverse poisonous plants known to flourish around the area. All in all, it was no wonder anyone underage was forbidden to go there.

 

It was just too bad how much children loved to bend and twist the rules.

 

The girl standing stoically on a nearby grassy slope was by no means diminutive, even if she was young. The premature formality and easy confidence with which she carried herself, and the familiar power in her dancing grey eyes - she was instantly recognisable as the Lorekeeper’s granddaughter. But mature as she was for a seven-year-old, she still had a rebellious streak, which was what inspired her to be standing where she was, when she did.

 

And because of that, she was the only person in the town to watch the night’s events unfold.

 

A colossal bipedal pokemon seemed to burst out of the ground, . It was difficult to tell from so far away, but it seemed to have a navy blue hide and polished, glinting scythes. It was certainly built to intimidate, yet its physical appearance played only a miniscule part in making the girl’s stomach turn. Even from afar, it was as though heat was emanating from the pokemon’s wounded body, rippling outwards in cascading waves. Although it could hardly walk in a straight line, it continued stumbling forward, scythes slashing at the air to keep balance.

 

As it made its sluggishly desperate movements across the field, it happened to turn towards her direction. It froze, and their eyes met for a single, heart-pounding second. It was like the world had stopped moving around her. Even from across the field, she could feel the electricity pulsing in its red, bloodshot eyes. Eyes that were excruciatingly distinct against the pale backdrop of night. Eyes that burned bright despite sagging with exhaustion, that burned from the core, alight with an unmendable fury. Eyes that, for a moment, made the girl's eyes light up with the same flame.

 

Then its body began convulsing, spurts of dark blood drenching the grass around its feet. A single, hoarse and very weak cry issued from its slack jaw, carried by the wind to the girl's ears. But before she could do anything, its huge form crumpled onto the grass like a broken china cup. She tried to move, but her legs were as good as jelly, and she could not will them to walk.

 

So she remained standing there, eyes still fixed on the spot where the pokemon had fell, a wisp of its rage brimming in her eyes that not even the cold light of the moon could quench.

  



	2. the nuances of navigation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: mentions of blood

This was, without a doubt, one of the worst ideas Cynthia had ever thought of. Including the particularly embarrassing moments of her childhood. In fact, she was sure even the particularly embarrassing moments of her childhood would pale in comparison to this. Especially if her grandmother ever found out - that she was currently lost in a forest at three o’clock in the morning, with no way to contact anyone. And to rub salt in her wound, she wasn’t even old enough to start her pokemon journey yet.

 

Her grandmother was so going to kill her. That is, if the thick forest closing in on her didn’t kill her first.

 

Though the moon had hung high in the sky when she left Celestic Town, the path ahead of her was in complete shadows. Only the weakening beam of the flashlight she carried in her hands provided a small slice of illumination. Beads of sweat had begun to drip from her bangs, and she shivered as a whispering wind began to blow. For the first time, she cursed Sinnoh’s perpetually chilly weather - even in summer, temperatures were never above 25oC. The thorny bushes all around that she couldn’t see weren’t helping with that, either. Sharp branches stretched towards her from all directions, clawing at her arms and legs and leaving streaks she couldn’t tell were blood or dirt.

 

Out of the blue, her left foot caught on something as she tried to step forward, and before she had time to process anything, the wind was knocked out of her lungs as she fell onto the leaf-covered ground. She grit her teeth as she sat up gingerly, feeling a wet, sticky and warm liquid covering her foot. Her flashlight had rolled away when she fell, and as much as she felt around her on the slippery ground, there was no sign of its metal body or weak light. And no matter how much she strained her eyes, there was no way she could see beyond the tip of her nose.

 

Cynthia winced as she tried to manoeuvre herself into a more comfortable position, finally feeling the dull throb of her sore muscles. She reached out, trying to find her ankle, and ended up coating most of her palm with warm, sticky blood. Without any way to see in the dark or even walk properly, she had no choice but to resign herself to staying where she was for the long night ahead.

 

*

 

She awoke with a start, heart pounding, and glanced frantically around as blood rushed through her head. Thankfully, the sun had already risen, and though the forest blocked out most of the sunlight, there was still enough of it to see. A thin gray mist creeped overhead, weaving in and out of the dew-covered canopy.

 

The reason why she had been jerked so rudely awake was subsequently made clear, though not in a way she particularly enjoyed. A bandage had been messily wrapped around her ankle, and it took a few bleary-eyed blinks before she completely processed what that meant. Eyes fully open now, pushed herself upright, pulling her backpack and its warm weight closer to her.

 

“Who -” she began, when her question was answered by a person bursting through a nearby bush.

 

He was a tall man, though that could just be due to her seated position. He wore heavy black hiking boots (though they were currently stained the reddish brown of soil), together with coffee-coloured cargo pants and a plain, somewhat dirty white T-shirt, stretched taut over his muscular chest. Strangely enough, a tattered cloak the colour of dried blood rested on his shoulders, its badly frayed ends flapping against his ankles with each step. He had an iron shovel swung over one shoulder. Cynthia had the strange feeling that she had seen his wild eyes and spiky hair somewhere before.

 

The stranger met her questioning gaze, and grinned, teeth bared in a way that would have scared her. Yet, she knew somehow that this was indeed a grin, and that she had seen it before. But for the life of her, she couldn’t quite figure out where. There was no time to be frustrated, however, for the man looked over his shoulder and yelled, with a booming bark, “Rowan -! she’s awake!”

 

The same bush began rustling in small, sporadic bursts, like something was struggling to get out. And get out he did - another stranger pushed his way through the bush after a couple of minutes. He brushed leaves out of his angular face, shooting an annoyed look at the first man’s triumphant grin.

 

“It’s not  _ that _ funny,” he chided. His voice was deeper and more mellow than his companion’s. He wore hiking boots as well, a smart choice, but unlike his friend, had picked an ordinary outfit - grey pants paired with a navy blue shirt. On top of that, he had on an otherwise pristine lab coat that was still dotted with a few stray leaves. His bushy mustache hid his lips, and behind the dusty glasses and dark circles his eyes burned as wild and fierce as the other man’s.

 

“Sorry if my friend here scared you,” he said gruffly, offering Cynthia a large, surprisingly smooth hand. As she took it and hauled herself up, a large silver wrist watch glinted under his sleeves. Again, like with the first man, he seemed familiar, and again, she had no idea why.

 

“This is Byron,” he continued, gesturing to his friend. “And you may call me Rowan.”

 

“O - oh,” she replied, balancing herself against the nearest tree. “It’s - uh - nice to meet you. My name’s Cynthia.” In truth, she had no idea whether it would be nice to meet them at all. On one hand, it could be assumed that they helped treat her injury, and yet they seemed like such an odd pair. Rowan was obviously a field researcher, from the way he dressed and the compact machine he carried in his pocket. Byron, however... Yet, she felt like she was seeing them through a glass wall, as though the secrets to their identities were right in front of her nose.

 

She pushed the nagging feelings away, and began listening to their conversation.

 

*

 

“Well, Cynthia, we’ve reached.”

 

Rowan’s voice jerked her out of the pleasant mental fog she had been lost in for the past couple of hours, and she stood stock-still for a second until it occurred to her.

 

“Um.. Mister Rowan? Where exactly have we reached?”

 

Rowan cocked his head to one side and regarded her with a sort of kingly interest. He gestured towards the towering rock formation behind him, not without a touch of pride.

 

“This is Mount Coronet,” he said, as though it should have been obvious from the start.

 

Mount Coronet? She stopped walking, lost in thought. Mount Coronet, the mountain that divided Sinnoh into east and west, its peak stretching into the clouds. Located west of Celestic Town..

 

Ice flooded her veins. West of Celestic Town.. that was in the exact opposite direction from where she had planned to head. Go to Solaceon Town, check her egg, go back before anyone even noticed she was gone. A simple plan, right? A simple plan that, in her hands, was obviously destined to fail. Now here she was, and when she turned around, the trees of the forest loomed before her, their trunks seeming twice as wide, the darkness beyond them a writhing monster.

 

“Fucking hell,” she whispered. “Grandma is so going to kill me.”

 

“Cynthia?” Rowan was almost beside the mountain now, standing beside a black opening she assumed was the entrance. “Are you alright?”

 

“Yeah,” she replied, jogging to catch up with him and ignoring the throbbing of her ankle. It seemed like the wound had been ripped open again by all the walking, though she supposed her rough tramping around was partially to blame. “So, this Mount Coronet.. are we going in?”

 

Rowan lifted an eyebrow. “We?”

 

This was her chance to stop. She could end everything right now, tell the old scientist that she wasn’t going to continue following him. She could ask for his help to get home, face her deserved scolding this once, and wait patiently to begin her journey when she was old enough, staying close to her grandmother’s brittle bookshelf and watching her egg, hoping it would hatch.

 

Or, she could continue on. Besides, as prudish as Rowan seemed, he did make some interesting points, and it never hurt to learn as much as she could.

 

She nodded, and Rowan shrugged, made an expression like a smile, and allowed her to follow him into the cave entrance.

 

It looked just as she thought it would - like any other cave, only larger, and elongated. Three paths led out of the first room, one significantly brighter than the other two. They made a right turn, Rowan’s flashlight illuminating the narrow pathway. As they passed by, she could make out other, even smaller passages, branching out from the main one and twisting into darkness. The path seemed to grow larger after a while, until there was enough space for both of them to stand side by side. Then it opened up into another huge cavern.

 

It was significantly larger than the first, high-ceiled and spacious, and standing in it felt almost sacred. Drafts of cold wind blew in from openings in the cave walls, as well as a little snow. She wondered how high up they were. Throughout the cavern, ledges and staircases carved into the rock directed their path, winding up, down, in any direction. The blood-soaked bandage around her ankle was slowly loosening with each step, and her sports shoes were now partially stained in dark red. She had no idea what they were doing, but Rowan strode ahead with confidence, his no longer needed flashlight still hooked on his wrist.

 

“Excuse me,” she began hesitantly, “but why did you come here?” Even as she said it, the stupidity of the question made her cheeks burn. She knew perfectly well what the hottest topic of scientific research was, and it wouldn’t surprise her at all if he was here for..

 

“To look for the mountain’s peak, of course,” Rowan replied, a passionate smile spreading across his whiskered face. “My laboratory is located very near to Lake Verity, and it has always been my dream to meet Sinnoh’s legendary pokemon in person.”

 

Of course. That, lately, seemed like the only thing anyone was interested in. Legendary pokemon this, legendary pokemon that, and from the rare occasions where Cynthia was bored enough to turn the television on, none of these so-called scientists knew the faintest thing about the pokemon they searched so fervently for. Or, they weren’t searching for the pokemon at all, but rather the fame and status that would come with finding them. But those were all hopeless dreams - the legendary pokemon of Sinnoh had not appeared before humans in centuries.

 

Rowan.. seemed different - he didn’t fit into either of these categories. The gleam in his eye when he spoke about the legendary pokemon wasn’t one of greed or vain hope. For a moment, his eyes blazing with passion. He seeked knowledge, she realised, not without a touch of bitterness. She recognised that look all too well. So when Rowan, deep in thought, entered one of the small side paths leading away from the cavern, she stood silently at the mouth of the passage until his silhouette had dissolved into black, then turned and ran in the opposite direction.


End file.
